There’s something peculiar about the collegiate routine. Certain practices and thoughts are accepted without question simply because of societal customs and norms. For all the excitement surrounding the end of the week, I am in awe upon waking on Sunday morning, a moment that seems to be overlooked in college. Sure of minimalism, free from the incessant commotion of weekend nights. There’s no need on Sunday morning for such commotion, either. What a reassuring notion. There’s a particular stoicism across campus. The emptiness feels as though everyone disappeared. No one with whom to exchange awkward smiles, no one to connect with, and no desire to connect with others. There is a sudden withdrawal from dogmatism, the entrapment of living with the results of other people’s thoughts. No need for politics, alcohol, binge eating, or hookups. No cameras to smile for, no playlists to prepare, no dinner arrangements to follow. In a way, we become less dependent on others. Once realized, the freedom of Sunday itself ironically becomes an important part of this weekly cycle.

The breeze kissed my face, Tossing my hair across my shoulders, Breathing in my ear, Gently inhaling, exhaling, The warmth poured itself across my skin, Sweet sunshine seeping into my veins, My eyes were closed, My heart was open, And at that moment it hit me That I knew exactly what it meant To be infinite To be so wildly free that nothing could touch me So wildly free in this reborn warmth, With the breeze dancing around me And the birds singing softly And me Lying here Under an endless sky Forever Not thinking, just being, just feeling… Infinite.

When unruly ripples Are running through, What is the anchor In the salty blue? I think gentle hands And stable feet Will not allow My nautical retreat. I’ve heard that honest lips And attentive eyes Can effectively prevent The tides to rise. Swirling around the salty blue, What is stable, And what is true? When I come crashing Into the crests, What is the solution That is best? And where can I find A nice life vest?

Really, when it came down to it, he needed money and his neighbor Jane needed someone to look after her cat. It was pretty good pay for an easy job, and since he couldn’t get a “real job,” James had to earn money anywhere he could. It’d be easy, right? A cat was a cat. They didn’t do much. Jane’s cat was a bit more rambunctious than he was expecting, though. “Midas, behave,” Jane scolded as the cat rubbed against James’s leg, demanding attention. “It’s fine.” James leaned over to pet the cat. He seemed friendly, at least. “He’s a…Bengal, right?” “Yeah, he’s a bit high-energy, but he’s a sweetheart.” Midas purred loudly, as if he understood what she was saying. “He just needs someone to play with him, make sure his food and water are changed, that sort of thing. It’s only for a few days.” “I think I can manage.” It wasn’t like James had anywhere else to go. That was the problem with summer break in a new neighborhood. He had no social life whatsoever. “Awesome. Thanks so much for this. One more thing, do you think you could stop by once a day to change out Reggie’s water?” Jane gestured to a tank in the corner of the room. “He’s already eaten, so he’ll be set until I get back.” “Sure.” James glanced at the tank, then did a double-take. There was a snake in there. A snake. Not a terribly large one, but still. He hadn’t expected that. Jane must have seen the look on his face. “He’s harmless,” she said reassuringly. “Completely docile, totally used to humans. He’s a ball python, they’re not even venomous. This won’t be a problem, right?” “Ah, no.” James shook his head. “No, it’s not a problem. Change his water. Got it.”

Sarah O’Brien Her Choice: Large Caramel Cadbury Eggs Her Views: This is not just chocolate we’re talking about. This is chocolate with CARAMEL inside. Sarah just doesn’t understand. She’s probably one of those girls who pronounces caramel incorrectly, with, like, seven syllables. Sure, good things come in little packages, and all that. But if we’re being honest here, the only thing we like “mini” is Mouse. “I wish my dorm was miniature!” is just not something heard ’round these parts. Friartown is a big deal. We like big wins, big numbered GPAs, and BIG Caramel Cadbury Eggs. Ya lost this one, Dombro. Eat your heart out.

It is time to batten down the hatches, folks! Season three of Game of Thrones is fast approaching, and things in Westeros have never looked more complicated and violent. The third season will be loosely based on the first half of the third novel in the Game of Thrones series, A Song of Fire and Ice, written by George R. R. Martin. For those of you who, like me, need your memories jogged regarding the events of season two in preparation for the next 10-episode chapter of the popular HBO series, a recap is in order (spoilers ahead!). Season two starts with four men playing in the game of thrones of Westeros: JoffreyBaratheon, the boy king, RenlyBaratheon and his brother, Stannis, and Robb Stark of the North. There is, of course, a woman in the game as well: DaenerysTargaryen, the mother of dragons. While the reigning Joffrey intends to maintain his hold on the crown despite his evident lack of kingly qualities, the rest of the four engage in a bloody race to King’s Landing, where they can dispose of Joffrey and sit on the highly coveted Iron Throne, each professing their own legitimate claims to rule.

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Established in 1935, The Cowl is Providence College’s only student-run newspaper. It boasts six sections and approximately 100 members. Issues are distributed every Thursday evening to roughly 50 locations on and off-campus. High volume areas include the Slavin Center, Phillips Memorial Library, and the Ruane Center.

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